Pause
by hollonsy
Summary: The Doctor is breaking all of his rules.


The Doctor didn't like to stay still. Staying in one place for too long made him uncomfortable, made him itch to run. He prefered to bounce from one adventure to the next with little time in the middle to catch his breath. Sometimes, however, stops were necessary.

The TARDIS had been acting funny since their most recent trip to Riftan Five, making gurgling noises and flashing her lights at odd intervals. The Doctor had insisted they in the Vortex until he was able to determine what was wrong with his beloved ship.

Rose didn't mind, though. As much as she loved the running and the traveling, she was only human and humans got tired. So this little vacation seemed to be just what she needed. (She would never tell the Doctor this, though. She knew he would insist on taking more frequent stops for her benefit and she more than anyone understood how much he would hate that, deep down.)

But for the time being, the Doctor and Rose Tyler were stationary. Rose took this break to catch up on her personal care. Saving planet after planet didn't leave much time for taking care of oneself, after all. She redyed her roots and spent much of the day in the TARDIS's immense spa room, soaking in some form of alien bubble bath.

Later, when she had had enough alone time, she wandered into the console room to perch on the jump seat and paint her toenails while the Doctor tinkered about under the grating. She knew his fondness for babbling while he worked and she was all too happy to keep him company and listen, even if she wasn't entirely sure what he was on about.

"It's a problem with the positronic influx. Must have caught interference from the Riftan's boosters, but that's alright! Love a challenge. Should be good as new as soon as I reroute the quark reactors to the neurocore. Should be up and running in no time!"

Rose carefully painted a coat of pink lacquer over her littlest toe. "And how long will that take, Doctor?"

The Doctor jerked and bumped his head against the grating. He carefully slid out so Rose could see all of him.

"Rose!" He grinned happily and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly. "How long have you been there?"

Rose laughed. "Not long," she said. "So… Do you always talk to yourself when I'm not around?"

She watched as the Doctor crossed to the other side of the console and retrieved a tool she could only begin to describe as a double-ended spoon.

"Helps me think, Rose! Time Lord brain, remember. Lots of stuff blundering about in there. Hearing things out loud makes them clearer." The Doctor sank down and slid back under the grating.

"I think you just like hearing the sound of your voice." Rose finished with her toes and tightened the cap on the bottle of polish. She set it aside and swung her feet back and forth off the edge of the seat.

From where the Doctor lay, he could see no more of Rose than her toes, but that alone was enough to distract him. The paint was still wet and shiny, the color a shade he could only define as Rose-pink — the color of her cheeks when she blushed, of her lips when she smiled, of her dressing gown when she wandered into the kitchen, half asleep and in search of tea.

The Doctor slid partially out from beneath the grating so he could see more of Rose, but so she couldn't tell he was looking. She wore track pants and a vest top, clothing much more casual than he was used to seeing her in. Her freshly dyed hair was tied in a knot atop her head and her skin was especially pink, partially flushed from the hot bath she had just gotten out of and partially from being thoroughly scrubbed with an exfoliant she had picked up in the Shallacatop markets.

She seemed to be at ease, more relaxed than the Doctor had seen her in a while. There was a soft smile on her lips and she was humming something under her breath. The Doctor's hearts beat unevenly in his chest as he came to a realization that frightened him with its suddenness and severity.

He wanted more of this.

Adventuring was brilliant. He loved the running. It was what kept him going, what kept him in love with the universe. But if he was quite honest with himself - which he never was - he would also realize that he was in love with her. He would never admit it, of course. He wouldn't linger on the thought or mull it over to determine what it meant. But he didn't have to. The feeling was there. The warmth that spread through him every time he looked at her, the intense desire to impress her and protect her and keep her happy, said it all.

The Doctor wanted to spend more time with her like this. It was rare that he saw Rose so calm and peaceful. Even on tranquil planets, they both tended to keep their guard up. They were used to trouble striking at any moment and were always prepared to run. But there was something almost magical about this London shop girl, painting her toes in his TARDIS.

These were new feelings for the Doctor and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. He'd traveled with dozens of people before and most of them had been women, but he had never felt such a pull towards them before. He was drawn to Rose like a moth to a flame and he was utterly powerless to stop it.

"Doctor?" Rose had noticed how he had stilled beneath the grating. She crossed the console room and crouched down beside him. "Everything alright?"

The Doctor shook his head, as if the physical act could clear his mind. "Never better, Rose!" But even to him, his voice sounded off.

Rose remained beside him, squatting down on her haunches. She tucked her fingers into the grating for balance and the Doctor noticed - much to his pleasure or torment, he wasn't sure which - that her fingernails had received the same treatment as her toes.

With a sigh, the Doctor slid himself out from the grating once more to come face to face with his companion. Up close, he could see her face was devoid of makeup. She looked much younger without the heavy mascara that usually lined her eyes and that alone should have been enough to warn the Doctor away.

She was young, not even a tenth of his age. Compared to him, she was practically an infant. He tried to tell himself this, tried to remind himself that_ this was not right_. But then her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she said his name softly, concern in her eyes, and the Doctor didn't care.

He didn't care about her age or about her species or about how she would inevitably be gone from him one day. He didn't think - _couldn't_ think - about anything but the way her eyes met his and the way she smelled like strawberries.

The Doctor was breaking all of his rules.

One hand came up to cup the back of her neck, his thumb stroking through the strands of hair that had fallen free of her bun. Rose's eyes widened as he pulled her closer. He could feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

His lips met hers and it felt as though the universe melted away. Nothing existed beyond Rose. She was everything. Her skin, her taste, her smell, the soft noises in the back of her throat — everything.

The Doctor was breaking all of his rules.

But for once, the Doctor didn't care.


End file.
